Person:James Craig (37)

{geni:about_me} On the first of May, 1808, the faces of old and young, great and small, of the male and female, upon Owl Creek’s “stormy banks,” were anxiously turned to the south to catch the first glimpse of that august personage, “the Court,” then expected to make a first visitation to Mount Vernon. Ben. Butler and Aunt Leah had their house all “in apple-pie order” for their grand reception; Jim Craig, at his house on the corner of Mulberry and Gambier, had laid in a fresh supply of whisky and other refreshments…

1808 – first election of county officers. For “House praisers,” Archibald Gardner and James Craig each got 12 votes….

One of the greatest fights of that early date was between Ben. Butler and Jim Craig, in which Craig was badly whipped. Butler’s hand had been tied up from a hurt, but he took off the poultice and gave him a severe thrashing. The next day Jim and Ben. met together and took a drink over it; the quarrel was dropped, as Jim said he deserved the whipping and would not fight over it again….

James Craig, one of the three men living in Mount Vernon in the spring of 1807, was grit to the back bone, and was constantly harassed by peace officers. It became almost an every-day occurrence with him to have a fight; and, if no new comer appeared to give his fighting life variety, he would, “just to keep his hand in,” scrape up a fight with his neighbors or have a quarrel with his wife – all for the love of the thing, for “Jamie was the broth of a boy.” HE had as high as four fights in one day with Joe Walker, who was also a game chicken! When arraigned before court for assault, etc., he would always put on his most pleasing smile, and say to the judge: “Now, will yer honor jist please be good to the boy, for he can’t help it.”

We have been told by an early settler of a little incident, illustrating the sports of the pioneers in 1807, at James Craig’s house, after he had moved out to the log cabin, erected, and yet leaning, not standing, on D. S. Norton’s farm, south of High street extension, on the Delaware road. Craig had tended a few acres of corn, and had the only corn for sale in that part of the county. Mrs. Rachel Richardson sent her son Issac to buy some for bread, and, after spending a short time in the village, he went out to Craig’s, got his corn, and stayed all night. The family had just got to sleep, laying down on the floor, when the wild fellows of the town came in to the doors and fired a volley over their heads. Craig at once sprang out of bed in his shirt-tail, grappled with one of them, and in a short time all present were engaged in a lively little fight, just for the fun of the thing. “Knuck Harris,” a “colored gemmen,” the first one ever in Mount Vernon, and Joe Walker, are recollected as having been among the parties.

One of the most noted fights that ever came off in this county was between James Craig and his son-in-law, Jack Strain, and two of the Georges of Chester township. It occurred in this way: Old Jim was, as he said, in a fighting humor, when, in company with Jack, coming along the road home on foot they met the Georges near Clinton riding sprucely on horse-back, and required that they should get off their horses and fight them. Parson George explained that they were in a hurry to go home, and had neither time nor disposition for a fight. But Jim swore that they must get off and fight; and, there being no way of getting past them, as they help possession of the road, they reluctantly got off their horses and “pitched in.” Jack soon whipped his man, but it puzzled Jim to make his fight out, and the conclusion arrived at was, that they had taken too large a contract when they undertook to whip the Georges. Jim, in after years, would revert to this one fight with regret, as it was entirely uncalled for and only provoked by his determination for a trial of strength.

After the marriage of Jack Strain into his family, old Jim counted himself almost invincible. Jack was a very powerful and active man, unsurpassed for thews and sinews, bone and muscle.

The great fight of the county might, with propriety, be called that of Strain with Roof. The count pretty much en masse witnessed it. It was a regular set-to – a prize fight not inferior, in the public estimation, to that of Heenan and Sayers. Jack fought with great spirit; he fought, if not for his life, for his wife; for old Jim swore that he (Strain) should never sleep again with his daughter if he didn’t whip him.

When Craig was indicted the last time for fighting, he told Judge Wilson “not to forget to be easy with him, as he was one of the best customers the court had.”

In wrestling with Tucker, Jim had his leg broken, which he often regretted, as he couldn’t stand on his forks right. He was not a big, stout man, but struck an awful blow, and was well skilled in parrying off blows. He called his striking a man giving him a “blizzard.” He was a backwoodsman from Western Virginia, but of Irish extraction – fond of grog, fond of company, fond of fighting, fun and frolic – kind-hearted, except when aroused by passion, and then the very devil. He fought usually as a pastime, and not from great malice. His wife was an excellent, hospitable and clever woman. We have heard very many anecdotes of Craig, but have space for only one more. One of the last kind acts of the old settler was his endeavoring to treat Bishop Chase when he first visited our town. Jim having heard much said of him as a preacher and a distinguished man, met him on the street, and, desiring to do the clever thing by the Bishop, accosted him with an invitation to treat. The Bishop was somewhat nettled at the offer, but declined going to a grocery with him, whereupon Jim pulled a flask from his pocket and insisted upon taking a drink there. The Bishop indignantly refused, and Jim apologized, if the Bishop considered it an insult. “Bless your soul, Bishop, I think well of you, and have no other way to show that I am glad you have come to our county but by inviting you to drink. Don’t think hard of me.”

Craig’s family consisted of eight girls, and he often regretted that he had no boys to learn how to fight. If the girls did not fight, they did run, and run well too. One of them, we recollect, was very fleet; many a time did she run races in the old lane, between Norton’s and Bevans’, and beat William Pettigrew and other of the early boys, nontwithstanding the scantiness of her dresses, which then were made of about one-third the stuff it takes for a pattern in these fashionable days of 1862.

At one time old Jim was singing to a crowd, when a smart young man, in sport, winked to those present and kicked his shins. The wink having been observed by him, he instantly drew back his fist and drove it plum between his eyes, felling him to the ground, at the same time exclaiming: “There, take that, d__n you, and don’t you ever attempt again to impose on ‘old stiffer!’”

A History of Knox County, Ohio, from 1779 to 1862 Inclusive By A. Banning Norton, 1862 http://books.google.com/books?id=nKmk4_R8MwMC&pg=PA63&vq=strain